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Or maybe you can. I’m not judging.
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For someone who doesn’t drink coffee but lives on freshly brewed tea… this is beyond disturbing.
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Another reason I live on the opposite end of the highway from this state.
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No.
You have your Impossible Burger, you have your soy based cheese ….
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For the love of all that’s holy keep your vegan hands off my seafood!
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Well this was disturbing. I’d only been to one out of nine. I must be getting old…
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The husband disappeared for a few hours yesterday and since him being quiet is usually dangerous, I investigated.
After searching the house, grounds and barn to no avail, I found him in the garage… where he’d pulled out one of our motorcycles.
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It’s a Kawasaki 1500 Vulcan which we used to ride all the time. Or rather, as much as Maine weather would allow. We bought our first bike back in the 90’s when we lived in North Carolina. Much longer riding season there, though I did hate wearing a helmet.
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We’ve had a parade of different bikes over the years, like this custom Harley the husband just had to buy …
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You know, the one that’s currently covered, buried in the back of the garage and collecting cobwebs.
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We’ve enjoyed them all and have toured New England from the mountains to the coast.
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We’ve taken scenic day trips and hit the annual rallies. Down south it was Myrtle Beach, up here it was Laconia.
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Where parking can be a wee bit tight.
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We’ve done countless charity rides and poker runs.
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And supported the Toys for Tots Run every September.
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Hundreds of big bad bikers…
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Coming together to make Christmas morning a little brighter for underprivileged children.
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Yes, that’s Senator Angus King. He was Maine’s Governor for years and rode with us quite often.
We’ve loved our bikes and enjoyed riding for decades.
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But in 2017 my husband had triple bypass surgery and things changed. It’s a dramatic as well as life altering procedure which I don’t recommend. Not one little bit. The recovery was a long emotional roller coaster and though he eventually came through it, physically he wasn’t the same man. He lost a lot of weight, which was good…. but a lot of muscle mass went with it. Motorcycles be heavy. So the bikes were covered and garaged.
Oh, we took them out now and then… but just for short cruises. And in the past 2 years? Nothing. Nada. Not one single ride. To be honest my knee injury makes it uncomfortable, but mostly it’s just getting to be too much. My husband is 75 and I’m fine with him hanging up the leather. Last year I suggested selling the two we have left and buying a sweet little convertible…. but he’s having a hard time letting go.
Aging is hard. And admitting you might have physical limitations for a retired Marine? Even harder. I understand, and don’t push. But when I went out to the garage and found him washing and polishing the Kawi I was hopeful.
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He asked about the registration sticker not being current and said we’d have to renew it if we planned on selling her.
Saying goodbye is a process.
This might be the first step.
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When walking his highness the other day, the little devil dashed right under the cedar tree.
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He’s in there, on the left with his leash twisted around the trunk. The reason for his mad dash?
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Her. That pesky momma red squirrel, chattering loudly, scrambling up and down and driving poor Dudley nuts.
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The walk was forgotten and we spent his entire allotted outdoor time staring straight up.
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She’s such a tease.
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For months we’ve had a nightly fox visitor for whom I lay out little piles of expensive dry dog food with taurine. ( It was recommended by a vet friend and is the closest I can get to the food U.K. Amazon refuses to ship to the United States) We love seeing him (her?) scoot across the lawn and settle in for a nosh. But last night?
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I was seeing double.
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Two beautiful foxes happily munching.
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Brother and sister? Husband and wife? Friends with benefits? I don’t know…
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But they’re both gorgeous!
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💕💕💕
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Isn’t it wonderful when you find the perfect combinations? Oreos and milk, Netflix and chill, bacon and, well anything. … but now? I’ve found a new winning combo.
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Exercising while intoxicated? Finally… a workout routine designed with me in mind.
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Photographic proof that even though it’s over 90 degrees and two window unit air conditioners are running full blast, his Lordship must commune with nature through an open window. And no, he’s not at all spoiled. Why do you ask?
🤣
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This is a photo of our local pub’s parking lot after a recent storm moved through. Mind you, we’re a lousy five miles away and didn’t receive a single drop of rain.
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It must have been a micro burst because it was a total mess.
Meanwhile back at the Barn Mahal…
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We have brown grass.
😫
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With menopause, bunions and a bad knee… I’m having enough trouble with 58. Screw 200.
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I’ve flown out of Boston’s Logan airport many times. Three weeks doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.
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I’m sorry, but that just bites.
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Finally… a scientific formula for choosing vacation destinations.
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I call foul.
I am neither loud nor boisterous, and am literally risk aversive. But Rome? I’m good with that. History, pasta and Limoncello sound like my kind of trip.
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I love my state. We have a festival devoted to clams and award those who can shuck them the fastest.
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I woke up to this the other day.
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Husband was having his coffee, I was reading the news and Lord Dudley went running to the back door.
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Where a little inter species communication commenced.
I was all for letting our little back deck visitor in, but was prohibited to do so by my grumpy husband.
Boo to unadventurous spouses.
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Remember the picture I posted 10 days ago?
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My nemesis, momma red squirrel… doing what I assumed was chilling on the grass near our kitchen landing?
As it turns out, she wasn’t chilling.
She was splooting.
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While I’ve always believed I have a well rounded vocabulary, splooting has been noticeably absent.
Until now.
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The fur on their bellies is thinner than the rest of their body so in essence, they’re performing a heat dump.
Splooting.
There’s nothing like the satisfaction of learning a new ludicrous word.
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There are multiple reasons I blog from my phone instead of my computer… convenience, speed, user friendly app, etc.
But there’s also a more organic reason :
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And it’s name is Lord Dudley Mountcatten.
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The beast has completely taken over my office chair and has shed so many pounds of fur on its black surface I had to cover it with a towel.
He has a rough life, this cat.
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The husband and I hit another antique store yesterday, but failed to find any appropriate vintage beer or whisky crates for my vinyl collection. (okay, I did see a Budweiser crate but even I have standards)
I’m afraid the search is proving fruitful in only one aspect.
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And that’s enlarging the number of albums I need to house in the first place. But I was happy to find 13 of the same records I lost decades ago. A few covers are in rough shape, but for $2 each I won’t complain.
And lest you think the husband came home empty handed, he found a treasure for the man cave as well.
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A wood bound mixed drink recipe book from 1941.
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It’s a hoot and has some interesting drawings.
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As with anything the husband purchases, he always tells me to look it up and see if he paid too much.
This was the first listing I saw.
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Yikes! I was impressed he only paid $15 until I saw a bunch of others ranging from $20-100.
Good luck wdan1351. If you manage to sell it for that price? Please let me know.
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